Set and Match
by Morna
Summary: Zelda disguises herself as a courtesan named Tetra to get into the good graces of Ganondorf. Zelgan.


Set and Match

Her name was not Tetra though she would have chosen that name if she'd had a choice in the matter. Obviously, she had not.

She preferred irises to roses.

Her hands and ears were more accustomed to the arching notes of a violin than to the airy tunes of a harp.

But he did not know any of this, and he never would.

The room was filled with the cloying scent of red, pink, yellow, and white roses imported from all over the kingdom. There was a standing harp in one corner of the room and a lap harp tucked away in a case underneath her bed. She did not touch either of them but at his request to hear her play. He pretended to enjoy the wretched and discordant sounds she coaxed from their strings. Who would have ever known that it was possible to make a harp sound so hellish? Still, he indulged her with a content smile and a compliment on her skills.

And the name Tetra rolled off his tongue so much more easily and sweetly than her true birth name. Everything seemed to now that she thought about it as she sat across from him at dinner.

The food was, like everything he provided, decadent and far too much for either one of them to eat. What was not finished here would be given to the servants to do with what they saw fit whether that was eating it themselves, giving it to the beggars that constantly clogged the doorways, or the dogs. It did not matter. Besides despite the spices and flavor, it all tasted like ash to her anyways.

"What is the matter, Tetra?" he asked in deep, rumbling voice like thunder.

"Nothing," she replied lightly with a smile, that special one she had created solely for his delight.

"Is it the food?" he said.

"No, the food is wonderful," she answered. _Everything is wonderful_, she thought to herself.

They lapsed into a pleasant silence. The rare kind that two people can share without feeling the need to say anything at all. There was no pressure to speak, which was odd since his very presence seemed to suck the air out of the room at times. He was a big man, the biggest she had ever seen. He stood at roughly seven feet with broad shoulders and thick red hair that fell past his shoulders when she did not insist upon braiding it. It was that moment she believed when she first suggested plaiting his locks that she had truly won him over.

Women of her supposed profession were not so bold. They did not make demands but fulfilled them and anticipated them. She had though after spending only a few nights in his company and seeing all that unruly hair that made her terribly envious of her own straight, straw colored hair. Ganondorf had been wary at first but when he found out that her hands were more skilled than what her playing a harp seemed to indicate he had melted under her touch. She remembered the way his shoulders had unknotted and his whole body had gone slack all at once. He had practically purred like an overgrown housecat.

Tonight she decided she would do it for him again one last time. It was the least she could do.

_There is still time to turn back, _her thoughts urged, and her hands started to tremble as she stood from the table.

"Where are you going?" he inquired gently as she walked to the tea tray sitting off at the side.

"There is a new brew I would like for you to try. I know that Hylian teas are not to your liking so I thought something a little bit different might remind you of . . . home." She took the tray with its kettle and two cups off the trolley and walked back to the table with it. _Home, what a strange and awful word,_ she thought as she set the tray down on their dining table and began to pour. This was her home but not really. It was by right but not by birth.

She focused all of her attention on keeping her wrists slightly bent and her arms straight as she poured them each a cup with a slow and measured grace as Impa had taught her. After all, if she was going to play the part she had best learn the proper skills.

Then she sat and brought the tea to her mouth and took a sip. She watched him over the rim of her cup as he took a deeper drink. Her whole body seemed to want to twist itself into a tangle at the sight of his throat moving with each swallow.

She set her cup down and let the steam rise. There was no smell or taste. Good.

The Gerudo smacked his lips appreciatively.

"Yes, that is a very good blend. It reminds me of the evening teas my sisters would make. It's mint that I taste, is it not?"

Her heart felt like it might come pounding out of her chest. "Yes, yes, I think so. I did not think to ask him what exactly was in it, but the merchant was positive you would like it."

Another kind smile and he wrapped one of his huge paws around her smaller hand.

"You are too good to me," he murmured as he brought her wrist to his mouth and tenderly kissed the inside of it.

It took everything in her not to snatch it away from him and burst into tears. Tetra, no _Zelda, _steeled herself against such weak emotions and boldly took another small sip of tea. She poured him a second cup.

He downed it quicker than the first, and she watched carefully.

His lips became looser, and he talked of things freely in front of her that he normally did not. To him, she was a clever girl but not one given to a particular interest in the military or politics. If he only knew.

He spoke casually of future military campaigns against the Zora and Goron. He talked of putting down the rebellions brutally. Not for the first, second, or thousandth time, she was awed at how the same man who could nonchalantly order someone drawn and quartered could be the same man that tucked a flower behind her ear or kissed her from the nape of her neck to the small of her back. How could a man who loved poetry and calligraphy and arguing theology be the same who did not flinch at watching a head roll or gutting a man?

The time for these questions was past now she realized. There had never truly been a time for them at all.

It was took three and a half cups before he yawned and his eyelids grew heavy.

"You are tired, dearest," she said as she leaned forward and touched his shoulder lightly. "You have been pushing yourself too hard."

"I suppose," he yawned, "you are right. Things have been rather hectic lately."

"Come let's get you to bed," she said as she stood and took his elbow to help him to his feet.

Another yawn cracked his jaw as he nodded sleepily and allowed her to lead him towards the bed. As he sat down, she knelt to slip off his boots and jacket and laid them aside on the trunk at the end of the bed. Next with swift and careful fingers, she unclasped his greaves and breastplate and set them in a corner. Normally, she would have servants take them away to be oiled and polished, but there was no point now.

Just as he was about to lay back, Zelda surged to her feet and scooted behind him.

"Come let me put your hair in a braid before you go to sleep," she said as her hands were already reaching for those fiery locks.

He made a slightly disgruntled sound.

"You know if I don't it will be a rat's nest by morning. You have been tossing and turning in your sleep all night lately." She began to separate the mane in to three separate strands. "Besides, you know how it relaxes you."

At that, he mumbled something in agreement and turned around on the bed so that his head was in her lap.

Zelda pulled out the three strands and laid them out across the bed. It had gotten so long since she had first met him. He had considered cutting it once or twice for practicality's sake, but she had not let him. He had listened to her about something as stupid as the style of his hair, and she wondered briefly as her hands wove deftly if he would listen to her about other things. The thought made her stop abruptly.

Those languorous golden eyes rolled up to look at her. She was struck once again by how they burned like embers.

"Why did you stop?" he said softly.

Zelda only smiled and continued on as he gave a soft groan of pleasure as she dragged her fingers through his hair. She might have liked to make one love one last time, but she had put it off too long already and her resolve had grown frighteningly weak.

Thoughtlessly, she began to hum a melody.

His eyelids were nearly shut when they flew open again, a moment of bright and piercing lucidity. "I know you claim we have never met, but you look so familiar."

She shook her head. "We have not at least in this lifetime."

That one sentence might have tipped him off if he were in his right mind. She could see his thoughts grow hazy again and a rueful smile curled his lips.

"Your name isn't really Tetra, is it?"

"No, it isn't." Zelda tied off his braid with a strip of leather and pressed her fingers to his temples to move them in soothing circles.

"That's what I thought," he sighed as he drifted off at last.

His breathing grew deep and even as he chest rose and fell. His head was still in her lap and his breath was warm against her thigh as he head fell to the side.

The princess leaned over and kissed his brow and then his lips. He gave no sign of feeling it.

"I am so sorry," she said though she knew the words were in vain.

She straightened, smoothing away the stray hairs from his face, and kept his head in her lap. She stayed that way all night until he stopped breathing.


End file.
